


Klaine Advent Drabbles

by dievampiredie



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-02-27 20:47:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 4,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2706206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dievampiredie/pseuds/dievampiredie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of stories based on prompts from the Klaine Advent Drabble Challenge</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Artist

“Daddy! Papa! Look what I drew!” Aubrey climbed up on the couch and plopped down between her fathers, clutching a piece of construction paper in her hands.

“What is it, sweetie?” Kurt asked as he set his own sketchbook down and reached for her drawing.

“It’s me and Santa, and I’m wearing the princess dress I asked him for. I want to send it with my letter so he knows ‘zacly what I want it to look like.” She looked up at them with wide, questioning eyes. “Do you think he’ll like it? Do they have ‘frigerators at the North Pole they can hang it on? Do the elves make dresses too, or just toys?”

Blaine pulled her onto his lap and kissed the top of her head. “I think he’ll love it. And I don’t know about the refrigerators, but I’m sure if they have somewhere to hang up artwork yours will go in a very special place so everyone can see it.”

“And of course the elves can make dresses. Who do you think made Santa’s suit, huh?” Kurt reached out a finger to nudge the bottom of her foot, and Aubrey giggled and squirmed on Blaine’s lap.

“Papa!” she shrieked. “That tickles! You’re not s’posed to tickle princesses!”

“Well, Princess, where’s your crown?” Kurt wiggled his finger up to her knee, while Blaine’s hand came up to tickle at her side. “And your dress?” Kurt blew a raspberry on her tummy, and she laughed and laughed.

“Santa didn’t bring my dress yet, silly, but I’m still a princess,” she informed them with a huff and an eye roll (which she absolutely did _not_ learn from her Papa).

Kurt grinned and leaned over to give her a kiss on the forehead. “Yes you are. Our little princess. Now, tell me more about this dress.”

Aubrey clapped her hands and wiggled. “It’s gonna be so pretty, Papa!” She scrambled off Blaine’s lap and knelt next to Kurt so she could point out the specifics. “It’s purple and has sparkles, and the bottom is really big and twirly like Princess Belle’s. But it needs to have long sleeves so I can be a winter princess, and maybe a cape with a hood too, but I ‘splained to Santa in my letter it was okay if the elves didn’t have time to make both. I know they’re busy.”

“You’re right, they are very busy,” Blaine agreed as he looked over her shoulder at the drawing. “But I think when Santa sees what a good artist you are and how hard you worked on this picture he’ll want to give you just what you asked for.”

“You really think so, Daddy?”

Blaine nodded. “But you’ll have to be extra good between now and Christmas.”

“I will. I’ll be the goodest, nicest girl in the whole world,” Aubrey promised, her expression completely earnest.

Blaine glanced over and smiled at his husband, who was clearly holding back laughter, and looked back to their daughter. “Why don’t you go put your drawing in the envelope with your letter, sweetie, and get your boots and coat on so we can go mail it to Santa.”

“Okay!” She scrambled off the couch and rushed toward her room, gripping the paper in her little fists.

Kurt finally allowed himself to chuckle as she left the room. “Apparently I need to schedule a trip to the fabric store.”

Blaine smiled and reached over to lace their fingers together. “Have I mentioned lately that you are, hands down, my absolute favorite elf?”

“Oh? Tell me, Santa,” Kurt leaned closer, his lips brushing Blaine’s as he spoke. “Am I going to get any special rewards this year? I’ve been _very_ nice.”

“Daddy!” Aubrey shouted from down the hall. “I need a stamp for my letter!”

Blaine pressed his forehead into Kurt’s and sighed. “Later?”

Kurt smiled and leaned in for a quick kiss. “Later.”


	2. Belong

Blaine dropped his messenger bag near the door and flopped down face first on the bed with a groan.

“Rough day, honey?” Kurt asked from his seat at their shared desk.

“Ate nda n ana ev.”

Kurt snorted out a laugh. “Wanna try that one more time? The pillow might’ve understood you, but your fiancé requires some clarification over here.”

Blaine turned his head. “I hate NYADA, and I want to leave.”

“Okaaay…” Kurt moved over to sit next to him on the bed. “Care to explain why?”

“It’s almost the end of the semester, and I still don’t feel like I fit in. Ms. July still hates me-”

“Cassie July hates anyone with talent or confidence, and you, my love, have been blessed with an abundance of both. You’re this year’s Rachel Berry.”

“She won’t stop calling me Bilbo,” Blaine pouted.

“I think it means she secretly respects you or something. The card she sent Rachel for her _Funny Girl_ opening was addressed to ‘Schwimmer,’ but the note inside was nothing but praise.”

Blaine rolled until he could rest his head in Kurt’s lap, taking a moment to collect himself. “It’s not just her, though. Nobody likes me.”

“Nobody likes anybody, sweetie,” Kurt reassured him. “It’s a performing arts school. We’re all a bunch of cutthroat divas who will do whatever it takes to get to the top. Not exactly an environment that encourages making friends.”

“I guess I’m just not used to feeling like I don’t belong.”

“You’ll get there. Rachel and I both went through the same thing. You just have to find your niche, and everyone chills out a little after the first semester. Don’t give up yet, okay? If you still hate it after next semester, I will fully support your decision to change schools, but will you give it one more chance? For me?”

Blaine let out a long sigh. “You’re probably right.”

“Of course I am.” Kurt leaned down to kiss his forehead. “I’m older and wiser.”

“ _You are seventeen, going on eighteen. IIII’ll depeeend on youuuu_ ,” Blaine sang.

“Ooookay, Liesl VonTrapp, if we’re done with this crisis, let’s go eat dinner and hate watch _The Sound of Music Live!_ again.”

“I don’t think you can count it as hate watching after you’ve watched it four times, honey.”

“My enjoyment of Audra McDonald’s rendition of ‘Climb Every Mountain’ still does not excuse the fact that they replaced Julie Andrews with a _country singer_ , Blaine.”


	3. Consume

_These violent delights have violent ends  
_ _And in their triumph die, like fire and powder,  
_ _Which as they kiss consume; the sweetest honey  
_ _Is loathsome in its own deliciousness  
_ _And in the taste confounds the appetite:  
_ _Therefore love moderately; long love doth so;  
_ _Too swift arrives as tardy as too slow._

Kurt looked up from his copy of _Romeo and Juliet_. “Do you think its blasphemous to have Shakespeare readings instead of scripture readings at a wedding?”

On the rare afternoon that they were both home, they typically ended up as they were now, Kurt nestled back against Blaine’s chest on the couch as they worked through their separate reading assignments.

Blaine set his own book down and tightened both arms around his fiancé. “Considering the fact that neither of us are religious and both of us are pursuing careers in theatre, I actually think it makes a lot of sense. Why? Did you find a quote you’d like to use?”

Kurt pointed to the passage and let Blaine read over his shoulder.

“Mmm…that’s a good one. But are you sure _Romeo and Juliet_ is the best choice? They didn’t exactly get a happy ending.”

“That’s because they didn’t heed Friar Laurence’s warning. Their love was too much, too fast, and it ended up consuming them both.”

“I wouldn’t mind consuming you,” Blaine whispered playfully, kissing up Kurt’s neck and nipping his ear.

“You can consume me all you want later, but we’re talking about our wedding right now,” Kurt teased.

Blaine left one last, lingering kiss on Kurt’s pulse point. “I’m holding you to that.”

Kurt grinned and turned to kiss Blaine’s cheek. “You’re incorrigible. I like this quote, because we have so many people telling us that we’re too young and we’re rushing into marriage too quickly. They think it’ll never last, but they’re wrong.”

“Absolutely.” Blaine reached over to lace their fingers together and traced his thumb across Kurt’s ring.

“I think, before, we might’ve had that kind of love, the kind that is so sweet but leaves you feeling sick in the end. But now, I think after everything we’ve been through, we’re learning to build something that lasts, you know?” Kurt turned back to look him in the eyes, and Blaine pressed forward to meet his mouth in a gentle kiss.

“I love you, moderately,” Blaine breathed against his lips.

Kurt smiled and opened his book again, settling contentedly into the arms of his long, moderate love.


	4. Dirt

“I’m pretty sure Pig-Pen’s parents are hoarders.”

Blaine giggled, trying his best to avoid jostling Kurt’s head from where it was resting on his stomach. “Hoarders, huh?”

“Mmhm…I don’t for one second believe that line about ‘carrying the soil that was trod upon by King Solomon.’ Dirt that was trod upon by all eighteen of his mother’s cats is more like it. And he’ll probably grow up to be just like them. You know it’s all a vicious cycle.”

Oh, Blaine loved this man. In celebration of the end of finals they’d spent the afternoon working their way through two bottles of wine and a marathon of their favorite holiday movies. Now, halfway through _Charlie Brown Christmas_ , Blaine found himself with a pleasant buzz and a lap full of goofy drunk fiance. “So Pig-Pen is going to grow up to be a hoarder like his parents. What about everyone else?”

Kurt rested his chin on Blaine’s chest and grinned up at him. “Well Schroeder’s obviously some kind of prodigy, so he’ll probably get into Juliard at age fourteen, be wildly successful for about five minutes, then have his career tank when he starts drinking too much and posting pictures of his dick on Instagram.”

"I love your imagination." Blaine stretched forward to kiss his forehead, and Kurt practically purred. "Do any of the gang get a happy ending?"

Kurt gave him a lazy nod. “Linus. Him and his husband adopt a beautiful little girl, and he gives her his old blanket when they bring her home.”

Blaine smiled and ran his fingers through Kurt’s hair. “Hey, sweetheart?”

"Hmm?"

"Promise when we adopt our own beautiful little girl you won’t tell her any of this? I’d prefer to let her come up with her own theories about her favorite characters, okay?"

Kurt beamed and nuzzled his wine-warm cheek against Blaine’s chest. “I promise.”


	5. Echo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This story deals with the aftermath of Finn's death. Skip over this one if that's a trigger for you.

Burt’s happy to have his boys home for Christmas. The house is too quiet these days, and too sad. They bring the life back into it.

There’s still a gaping hole in their usual Christmas cheer. It comes in waves - an empty chair at the dinner table, a teary eyed Rachel at the door, the lack of poorly wrapped presents under the tree. Carole has to excuse herself more than once, trying to keep her tears separate from their celebration. They’re all careful with one another, allowing for the moments of grief to pass in and out of the moments of joy.

The moments of joy are plentiful, though. Carole has people to fuss over and take care of, and it makes her smile and shine in a way he hasn’t seen in months. The boys tell them stories about New York and sing a nearly constant stream of carols, harmonizing and dancing around and radiating their complete adoration for one another. They talk about tentative plans for the wedding and their mutual decision to start looking for a place of their own soon.

Now Kurt and Carole are in the kitchen baking, their occasional giggles floating out to the family room where Burt and Blaine sit peacefully in the warmth of the fireplace, enjoying the twinkling lights on the tree and the snow falling softly outside the window.

“The first year is always the hardest, ya know?” Burt speaks softly, so as not to disturb the quiet of the room. “The first holidays after you lose someone, that’s when the echoes are the loudest.”

Blaine reaches over to gently squeeze his shoulder.

Burt nods his head toward the kitchen. “He doin’ okay?”

Blaine purses his lips and nods. “He’s busy, and I think that helps. We don’t talk about it a lot at home, because of Rachel mostly, and because it’s still hard for both of us. We all miss him.”

“He ever talk about his mom? I know he thinks about her a lot this time of year.”

“He taught me how to make her favorite cookies last week, and told me about how much she loved Christmas time.”

“Still feelin’ that echo too, then. Good.”

Another fit of laughter erupts from the kitchen, and both men pause to smile.

“She’d be proud of the man he’s become, and she woulda loved the hell outta you.” Burt puts an arm around him and hugs Blaine to his side. “You’re a good man. Thanks for takin’ care of him, kid.”

Blaine lets his head drop to rest on Burt’s shoulder. “Thanks for letting me, Dad.”


	6. Falter

Kurt lost his footing on the ice, and a pair of hands immediately shot out to steady him.

“Careful, honey.” Blaine’s hands slid down Kurt’s arms to link their gloved fingers as he pulled him closer.

Kurt nudged their chilled noses together and smiled down at their joined hands. “This is so much better than last year.”

“I’m allowed to hold your hand.”

“We’re living in New York.”

“Together.” Blaine squeezed Kurt’s hands gently before dropping one so they could skate again. “We’ve performed more Christmas duets already this year than every other year combined.”

“We both got into NYADA.”

“And totally aced all of our finals! Woo!”

“Dad’s cancer is gone.”

“We’re engaged.”

“We’re _engaged_.”

“I love you.”

“Nope.”

“No?”

“Doesn’t count. We loved each other last year.”

“We were idiots last year.”

“That’s why this year is so much better.”


	7. Ice

“Kurt! Kurt! The sky’s awake!”

“Blaine, we live in New York. The sky doesn’t sleep.”

“Kurt it’s snowing!”

“It’s December.”

“Let’s go outside.”

“I’m sleeping.”

“Kuuurt…”

“Blaaaaine…”

“ _Do you wanna build a snowmaaan? C’mon let’s go and plaaaay!_ ”

“I am never taking you to see another children’s movie again if this is how it’s going to be.”

“Shut up. I’ve heard you singing ‘Let It Go’ in the shower every morning this week.”

“But I’m not waking you up acting like a five year old.”

“ _So I’m a bit of a fixer upper. I’ve got a couple of flaws. The only fixer-upper fixer that can fix a fixer-upper is-_ ”

“Come back to bed, my true love.”


	8. Message

**Blaine** (12-25-2010 9:30 AM): Merry Christmas, Kurt!!  
 _ **Kurt** (12-25-2010 9:31 AM): Thank you. Merry Christmas to you, too. _  
_**Kurt** (12-25-2010 11:48 AM): Did you enjoy the morning with your parents?_  
 **Blaine** (12-25-2010 11:57 AM): It was nice. We’re in the process of packing the car to go to my grandparents’ now.  
 **Blaine** (12-25-2010 11:59 AM): How has your day been?  
 _ **Kurt** (12-25-2010 12:02 PM): I discovered that Christmas morning turns Finn into even more of an overgrown six year old than usual._

_**Kurt <3** (12-25-2011 12:01 AM): I wanted to be the first one to tell you Merry Christmas today <3_  
 **Blaine <3** (12-25-2011 12:02 AM): Merry Christmas, sweetheart <3  
 _ **Kurt <3** (12-25-2011 12:05 AM): Have I told you how much I love it when you call me that?_  
 **Blaine <3** (12-25-2011 12:06 AM): Have I told you how much I love YOU?  
 _ **Kurt <3** (12-25-2011 12:08 AM): I love you too._  
 **Blaine <3** (12-25-2011 12:13 AM): We should go to sleep so Santa doesn’t skip our houses.  
 _ **Kurt <3** (12-25-2011 12:14 AM): But all I want for Christmas is you!_  
 **Blaine <3** (12-25-2011 12:15 AM): Awww…Kurt!  
 _ **Kurt <3** (12-25-2011 12:19 AM): Oh my god, no wonder our friends all think we’re gross._  
 **Blaine <3** (12-25-2011 12:21 AM): Whatever. We’re adorable.  
 _ **Kurt <3** (12-25-2011 12:22 AM): Adorkable maybe._  
 **Blaine <3** (12-25-2011 12:25 AM): Whatever else we are, I’m just happy to be yours.  
 _ **Kurt <3** (12-25-2011 12:26 AM): If I have anything to say about it you’ll be mine for a very long time._

__

**Blaine** (12-25-2012 3:34 PM): Landed safely in Columbus. Just waiting on my parents to pick me up.  
 _ **Kurt** (12-25-2012 3:38 PM): Glad you got there safely. How was the flight?_  
 **Blaine** (12-25-2012 3:39 PM): It was fine. I had a whole row to myself.  
 **Blaine** (12-25-2012 3:40 PM): How has the rest of your day been?  
 _ **Kurt** (12-25-2012 3:43 PM): Dad and I stayed in our pajamas until well after noon. We’ve been sitting around reminiscing over coffee and snacks, and he told me stories about his first couple Christmases with mom, before I was born._  
 _ **Kurt** (12-25-2012 3:44 PM): I found the gift you left me. It’s lovely. Thank you, Blaine._  
 **Blaine** (12-25-2012 3:49 PM): Mom just called and said they’ll be here in five minutes.  
 **Blaine** (12-25-2012 3:50 PM): You’re welcome. I know it’s not much, but it was beautiful and reminded me of you.  
 _ **Kurt** (12-25-2012 3:52 PM): It’s perfect. I’ll think of you every time I wear it._  
 **Blaine** (12-25-2012 3:53 PM): Good thoughts, I hope.  
 _ **Kurt** (12-25-2012 3:55 PM): Always._  
 **Blaine** (12-25-2012 3:56 PM): I’m with Mom and Dad now. Talk to you later?  
 _ **Kurt** (12-25-2012 3:57 PM): Of course. Tell them I said hello and Merry Christmas._  
 **Blaine** (12-25-2012 9:18 PM): I just found a box in my suitcase that I didn’t put in there.  
 **Blaine** (12-25-2012 9:22 PM): Kurt, thank you!! Did you make them yourself? I can’t wait to wear them!  
 _ **Kurt** (12-25-2012 9:28 PM): I had some fabric leftover from a vest I made, and the others are from scraps from alterations at Vogue._  
 **Blaine** (12-25-2012 9:30 PM): They’re amazing.  
 _ **Kurt** (12-25-2012 9:35 PM): Thank you for coming to New York._  
 **Blaine** (12-25-2012 9:37 PM): Merry Christmas, Kurt.  
 _ **Kurt** (12-25-2012 9:40 PM): Merry Christmas, B  <3_  
 **Blaine** (12-25-2012 9:41 PM):  <3

_**Kurt** (12-25-2013 6:12 AM): It’s Christmas. Why are you up so early? Come back to bed and keep your fiance warm._  
 **Blaine** (12-25-2013 6:15 AM): I’ll be up in a minute. Merry Christmas!   
_**Kurt** (12-25-2013 6:16 AM): You’ll get your Christmas greeting when you get your ass back in here._  
 **Blaine** (12-25-2013 6:18 AM): Christmas greetings for my ass under your father’s roof? Scandalous, Mr. Hummel.  
 _ **Kurt** (12-25-2013 6:20 AM): That’ll be Mr. Hummel-Anderson this time next year._  
 **Blaine** (12-25-2013 6:21 AM): On my way back now, because I need to kiss you.


	9. Ache

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter marks the beginning of the 2014 advent drabbles

From the age of nine until he was about seventeen, Kurt frequently woke up in the middle of the night with deep aches in his joints and muscles and bones. The first time it happened, he yelled for his dad, tears streaming down his face as he tried to tell him how much everything _hurt._  
“They’re just growing pains, buddy,” his dad had explained while he held Kurt’s tiny body and rubbed a calloused hand up and down his back. “It just means you’re gettin’ bigger and stronger.”  
“Like you, Daddy?” little Kurt asked, wiping his eyes and nose on the sleeve of his pajama top.  
“Yeah, kiddo. Just like your ol’ dad.” Burt kissed the top of his head and rocked him gently until he drifted back to sleep.

Years later, it happened while Blaine was asleep next to him. Burt and Carole were in DC for the weekend, and Finn had spent the night at Puck’s so the boys could have the house to themselves. Kurt jolted awake, his legs aching and muscles cramped. He drew in a shaky breath before reaching over to dig a bottle of Tylenol out of his bedside table. He swallowed the pills dry and flopped back down onto his pillow.  
Blaine rolled over and curled into Kurt’s side. “Okay, baby?”  
“Yeah,” Kurt whispered. “Just growing pains.”  
“Ugh…they’re the worst.” Blaine kissed Kurt’s chest and ran a soothing hand down his side. “Love you.”  
Kurt pressed his lips to Blaine’s curls and smiled, his pain all but forgotten. “Love you too.”

On Blaine’s first night back in the loft, Kurt woke in the middle of the night to Blaine’s fingers lightly tracing over his face.   
“Sorry,” Blaine murmured, his hand stilling when he realized Kurt’s eyes were open.  
“S’okay. What’s up?” Kurt sleepily asked.  
Blaine took a long, deep breath. “Do you think we’re going to be okay this time?”  
Kurt could see the anxiety in Blaine’s eyes, in the tight set of his jaw and the tension in his shoulders. Kurt reached over and laid a gentle hand on his face, stroking softly over his cheekbone. “I think we’ve just been dealing with some growing pains, honey. We might fight or get annoyed with each other sometimes, but, yeah, I think we’re going to be okay.”


	10. Balance

“One, two, three, one, two, three…”

“Papa, this was so much easier when I could just stand on your toes and let you do all the work.”

Kurt grinned and continued to lead his daughter around the floor of their living room. “You’ll get it, honey.”

Aubrey huffed and looked down at her feet.

“Eyes up,” Kurt gently reminded her.

“Back right, side, together, forward left, side, together…” she murmured as they moved  slowly through each step of the box.

“See? You’re practically a pro already.” He smiled as she rolled her eyes at him “Want to try it with music now?”

After Aubrey’s affirmative nod, Kurt stepped over to their old record player, and within moments Julie Andrews’ voice filled the room, singing of “raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens.”

Kurt closed his eyes, memories of his own early waltz lessons flooding his senses - his mother scooping him up in her arms and twirling him around the kitchen, singing along with Julie and giggling with Kurt when she dipped him almost entirely upside-down. She smelled like Christmas cookies and her favorite perfume, and with her arms around him Kurt had always felt safe and whole and so, so loved.

“Papa?” Aubrey’s voice pulled him back to the present.

“Sorry, sweetie.” Kurt stepped over and drew his little girl into the proper hold, then danced  with her through the end of the song - one, two, three, one, two, three…

They were both startled by the applause that started as the music faded and Kurt sent Aubrey out into a final twirl.

“Mind if I cut in?” Blaine asked from the doorway.

“Be my guest, Daddy.” Aubrey settled herself down on the couch to watch as Blaine restarted the song.

Blaine stretched out a hand toward Kurt. “May I have this dance?”

“You may.” Kurt ignored proper form and pulled his husband close, settling into the arms that had restored his sense of safety and wholeness so many years ago.


	11. Cloud

The day was overcast and cold, and Kurt and Blaine were curled up on opposite ends of the couch with mugs of hot tea, their legs tangled together in the middle as Blaine read and Kurt sketched ideas for possible groomsmaids’ dresses for the wedding. Kurt was fully engrossed in his work, the soft pink of his tongue sticking out just slightly between his lips an indication of how hard he was concentrating. Blaine, on the other hand, kept looking up from his book every few minutes to stare out the window at the heavy gray clouds.

As the muted light of the day began to fade into twilight, Blaine leapt up from the couch and whooped, startling Kurt.

“It’s snowing!” Blaine cheered as he rushed toward the door and pulled on his boots. “Kurt, get dressed! We have to go for a walk!”

Kurt had learned long ago that Blaine could not be swayed from his tradition of talking a walk during the first snowfall of the year, so he dragged himself off the couch and slipped his coat over the sweater he’d been lounging in all day.

Blaine bounced impatiently by the door as he waited for Kurt to find his hat and gloves in the hall closet. When he emerged, fully dressed for the winter weather, he had a soft knitted beanie and a matching scarf in his hands. Kurt pulled the hat down over Blaine’s curls and wrapped the scarf around his neck, pulling him in by the ends to press a kiss to his lips.

Blaine grinned and reached out to intertwine their gloved fingers, leading Kurt out the door and down the stairs. When they stepped outside Blaine looked up, the tiny flakes landing on his cheeks and catching in his eyelashes. “Hello, friends,” he greeted them.

Kurt affectionately shook his head. “C’mon, honey," he said with a gentle tug on Blaine's hand. "If we’re going to be out here for a while we need hot chocolate.”


	12. Dessert

“Honey, we’re home!” Blaine called as he and Aubrey returned from their trip to the mall. “My parents’ and Cooper’s gifts are officially all taken care of.”

When he didn’t get a response from his husband, Blaine set his shopping bags on the bench in the foyer and ventured further into the house.

“Kurt?” he called again.

“Papa, are you here?” Aubrey followed, trailing behind Blaine.

The found Kurt in the kitchen, bent over the counter with a piping bag in hand, focused intently on the cookie he was decorating.

“There you are,” Blaine said, and Kurt flinched, completely wrecking the precise line of icing he’d been trying to draw.

Blaine gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, sweetheart. I assumed that you heard us coming down the hall.”

Kurt sighed and moved the now ruined cookie to a small plate on his left. “It’s fine. I saved a few that I screwed up earlier for you two anyway.”

“Gee, thanks, Papa.” Aubrey rolled her eyes and reached toward the tray on Kurt’s right, which was filled with intricately decorated snowflakes, trees, angels, and Santas.

Kurt slapped her hand away before it could reach the tray. “Don’t even think about it, Aubrey Elizabeth.”

“Why don’t we get any of the pretty ones?” Aubrey whined.

“They all taste the same. The ‘pretty ones’ are for the neighborhood cookie contest tomorrow, and that old hag Mrs. Carson will _not_ be winning again this year.”

Blaine chuckled and plucked a cookie from the “ugly” plate. “Kurt, the woman is almost ninety. She has great-grandchildren older than our daughter, and her cookies are legendary.”

“And delicious,” Aubrey chimed in.

“Plus, she’s sweet. Remember the blanket she made for Aubrey when we brought her home? She crochets one for every new baby in the neighborhood and makes extras to donate to shelters and hospitals.”

Kurt stared at the two of them for a moment, mouth agape, then snatched the cookie plate from the counter in front of them. “Have you two been fraternizing with the enemy? My own family…unbelievable. Don’t you understand that this is _war?”_

“Sweetheart…”

“Don’t you ‘sweetheart’ me, Blaine Hummel-Anderson. I know where your loyalties lie. Out of my kitchen, you two. I can’t even look at you right now.”

“But Papa, what about our cookies?”

“Traitors don’t get cookies. Now, scoot!”


End file.
